


Rose Water

by okay_klepto



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Descriptions of Blood, Established Relationship, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-20 21:17:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okay_klepto/pseuds/okay_klepto
Summary: Shiro is excited for a date night with Keith.  However, Keith had been silently struggling for far too long.  Sometimes things just get to be too much, and it seems like there's only one way out.





	Rose Water

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic that I have written that's about a subject like this. I've been trying to branch out on the subject I write about. Obviously, some have been more difficult than others.
> 
> This could be considered a prequel to my other fic [I Know](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429443), but it wasn't necessarily written to be so. Each could be independent of each other.

   Shiro bounced down the hallway to Keith’s apartment.  He was as giddy as a kid in a candy store as he made his way to his way to his weekly date with Keith.  He couldn’t wait.  The date was barely a date in the traditional sense.  Keith hadn’t wanted to out that week, so they were going to eat junk food and watch movies while cuddling on the couch.  It couldn’t be any better, but any night alone with Keith was bliss for Shiro, fancy or not.

   Beaming with joy, Shiro knocked on Keith’s door and waited.  His smile never faded as he stared at the closed door, waiting for it to open and for Keith’s lovely face to appear.  Shiro balanced himself on his toes then rolled back on his heels before he knocked on the door once again.

   “Keith!”  Shiro practically sang the name.  “I’m here!”

   Still no answer.  Undeterred, he shot Keith a text, just assuming he was listening to music in his room and couldn’t hear him knocking.  He had arrived a few minutes early after all.  Can’t blame Keith.

S:  _ I’m here xoxo _

   Shiro waited for another few minutes before knocking again.  Still, the door remained closed.  He checked his phone but frowned when he saw no new messages.

_ Odd… _ Shiro thought as he leaned against the wall, hands shoved into his jean pockets.  Keith was usually right on time when it came to dates and always notified Shiro of any last minutes conflicts.  He also always had his phone on him, so he responded quickly.  Shiro’s mind began to wander to the worst, but he shook those thoughts out of his head.  Keith was safe.  Keith was fine.

   Fifteen minutes passed, and Shiro sent a text to Lance.

S:  _ Is Keith home? _

   A few minutes passed.

L:  _ he should be _

S:  _ He’s not answering the door _

L:  _ ill be there in a few _

   Shiro sighed and sat down on the floor.  Maybe Keith was taking a shower, or napping, or playing video games.  Lance would be coming back from work so he could just be let in then.  Lance would go out and have a night on the town, maybe with Hunk or Pidge, and he and Keith could kiss and cuddle to their hearts’ content.  The evening would be perfect.

   Shiro couldn’t help but be discouraged.  He  _ really _ wanted to be in there with Keith right now, seeing his happy face and kissing his soft lips.  Was there something wrong with him? Maybe he hadn’t received the break-up text that Keith could have sent earlier that day.  Maybe Keith had some sort of emergency and forgot to tell him about it.  Maybe he did something that upset Keith and now he was getting the silent treatment.  Shiro gave one last sigh and checked his phone only to see there were no new messages.

   Ten minutes to an eternity later, Shiro turned his head to see Lance trotting down the hallway.  He seemed tired but still had some energy in his step.  Shiro stood as Lance grew closer, and he was happy to see him pull out his keys.

   “Sorry you got stuck out here, dude,” Lance said as he unlocked the door.  “Keith’s probably sleeping or something.”

   “It’s not a problem.”

   Lance and Shiro entered the apartment and Lance began to strip off his jacket.  “I’m sure Keith is around.  Is tonight a stay-at-home date?”

   “Yeah.  Movies and junk food,” Shiro said back as he took off his shoes and began to look around.  “Lots of cuddling.”

   “Aww sounds nice.”

   “Yeah…”  Shiro peaked into the sitting room in search of Keith, only to find it empty.

   “Well, I’m going to put on different clothes,” Lance said as he began to head to the back of the apartment.  “I’ll see if Keith is in his room.”

   Shiro nodded and went into the kitchen to keep himself busy.  He started getting excited again.  Keith was just around the corner and soon they would be together for the evening.   Things were fine.  He shouldn’t have worried so much in the first place.

   “Keith!  Your boyfriend’s here!”  Lance was tired from work and, frankly, just wanted to get to a bar and have a few drinks.  He didn’t need Keith’s shenanigans right then.  “He’s thirsty as fuck.”

   Instead of going into Keith’s room, Lance entered his own room, unconcerned with what Keith was doing.

_ With my luck he’s jackin’ it,  _ Lance thought as he unbuttoned his shirt.  “C’mon, Keith! Stop being dumb!”

   When there was just silence in response, Lance stamped his foot and drug himself to Keith’s room.  He opened the door without knocking and found it empty.  Great.  He was in the bathroom doing who knows what.  Lance turned the knob on the door, not bothering to knock once again out of annoyance.

   “I swear, Keith, if you’re-”

   All Shiro heard was Lance scream.  The cutesy fantasy he had lost himself in vanished.  He jumped up and dashed to the back of the apartment.  Shiro followed the hallway to Keith’s room and jogged towards the light of the open bathroom door.  Lance was standing in the way, clutching the doorknob breathing heavily.

   “Lance, what’s-”

   The first thing Shiro saw was red.  Rich red was splattered across the pristine white of Keith’s bathroom floor and side of the tub.  He noticed the cloudy pink that filled the bathtub where Keith was lying.  His skin was nearly as pale as the tub, a stark difference to the red he was in.  Keith’s head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, mouth slightly open, all color gone.  Shiro’s eyes followed down Keith’s chest and along the arm that was outstretched straight on the edge of the tub.  It was pale like the rest of Keith’s body, but his fingers were red. Red.  A long slice across his wrist was smeared with crimson like his fingers, oozing slightly.  Red dripped from his fingers and landed on the stained rug.  A shiny, bloody razor blade sat innocently in the puddle that had formed.  Everything was still.  Everything was silent.

   Shiro pushed past Lance and knelt down by the tub.  He mind was moving at the speed of light, but it was completely empty.  Nothing.  Without thinking, Shiro pulled Keith’s bath towel off the rack and threw it on the floor.  He reached into the tub and pulled Keith out from under his arms.  His body was cold and limp, but Shiro never noticed.  He laid Keith down on the floor and wrapped him in the towel, his hands shaking as he went.  He wanted Keith to be warm.  Warmth meant he was well.  Shiro saw a slash on Keith’s other wrist to match the first, that one more clear from being washed in the water.  It was now but a red line marring Keith’s delicate skin.  Just a little, red line.

   “Call an ambulance.”

   It hadn’t registered in Shiro’s mind that he had said anything as he got two hand towels to wrap Keith’s wrists in.  He hadn’t noticed that Lance was white with fear and crying an ocean of tears.  He had been holding the sink for dear life, not moving after Shiro had pushed past him.  Lance nodded and pulled his phone out with trembling hands, dialing 9-1-1 as best he could.

   “Hello, yes…  East Main Street… 812…”

   Shiro quickly wrapped Keith’s forearms in the towels to stop any more bleeding.  One half of him prayed the blood would stop, but the other half prayed it would keep seeping out.  Shiro pulled Keith up onto his lap, trying his best to warm him up in hopes it would make him wake up.  He tried to check if Keith was still had a pulse, but his hands shook too much, and his vision blurred with tears and fear to the point he could barely tell Keith was laying in his lap.  How could this have happened?

   The next moments were a blur for Shiro.  One moment Keith was in his lap, the next the paramedics were there, pulling him away so they could tend to Keith.  They spoke to each other, but Shiro didn’t know what they were saying.  He watched one of the paramedics start CPR on Keith and another clean and wrap Keith’s arms.  They spoke again, the paramedic not performing CPR sticking an IV into Keith’s arm.  The CPR stopped and an oxygen mask was placed on Keith’s mouth.  Then there was a stretcher and suddenly Keith was on it.  There was still blood.  Still so much blood.  Lance was sitting on Keith’s bed crying.  Shiro felt dizzy.  And then they were going down the hallway and down the stairs and out the door.  Then Shiro was in the ambulance with Keith, still lying lifeless with the towel around his waist.

   “Has this ever happened before?”  One of the paramedics asked as she began hooking Keith up for a blood transfusion.

   Shiro shook his eyes, continuing to watch Keith’s chest barely raise then fall.  “No.”

   “Do you know what may have triggered this?”

   Shiro thought back to the following days, weeks, months.  Everything was normal.  He hadn’t noticed any change in Keith behave, hadn’t seen any signs that would have pointed to suicide.  Shiro dipped his head forward.  He couldn’t feel the tears roll down his cheek, but he saw them hit his shaking hands.

   “I don’t know,” he whispered, fighting every urge not to have a meltdown.  He wanted to yell and scream and cry break things and lay down and never get back up.  “I-I don’t know…”

   Shiro felt a hand on his back.  He looked up to see the paramedic looking at him with knowing eyes.

   “One way or another, he’s going to be alright.  I promise.”

   Shiro looked at Keith, still ghostly and barely moving.  One way or another.

   And the next moment Shiro was sitting in the hospital, Lance beside him as he stared into nothing.  Shiro didn’t know how long he had been waiting, didn’t know how long Keith had been out, didn’t know when Lance had gotten there.  There were so many things he didn’t know.  He had so many questions and absolutely no answers.  All he could do was sit idly by and wait for someone to tell him whether or not Keith was even alive.  His knee bounced up and down, Lance rubbing his back as a simple act of comfort.  Others in the waiting room read magazines or played games on their phones.  A gentleman had been making phone call after phone call ever since Shiro and Lance had gotten there.  Lance had already called Pidge and Hunk and told them what had happened, but they lived too far away to visit.  There was no one else to notify of Keith’s actions - no family, no other friends.  No one.  They were the only people Keith had, yet they had seen nothing.  Who else was there to blame?

   Fresh tears fell from Shiro’s eyes as he thought about how useless he had been.  He was supposed to be the person Keith could confide in and his shoulder to cry on, but he had failed his one task.  He should have picked up on Keith’s behaviors.  He wasn't there for Keith when he needed him the most.  He just let this happen.  He just let Keith die.

   “Hey, dude.”  Lance leaned forward so Shiro could hear his words.  They shook too, but Lance fought back his emotions.  “It’s alright.  Keith will be okay.”

   “Mr Shirogane?”

   Lance removed his hand from Shiro’s back, and Shiro looked up to see a middle-aged doctor with a clipboard standing a few yards away.  Shiro didn’t recognize his face, but the name on his nametag was the one the paramedics had mentioned when they had reached the hospital and he was led away from Keith.  This Dr Singh must have been the man who was taking care of Keith.

   Shiro stood up quickly, the dizzying, sickening feeling inside of him increasing with each step he took towards the doctor.  Lance followed close behind.

   “Is Keith alright?”  Shiro asked, his voice wavering as he thought about Keith.

   “He’s alive, but not well,” the doctor replied, Shiro’s little bit of hope falling away.  “He’s in critical condition.  We’re trying to give him back all of the blood he lost.  The cuts on his wrists have been cleaned and stitched up, so now we just need to wait.”

   Shiro nodded, shrinking back towards Lance.  Lance put a hand on his back before speaking to the doctor.  “Are we going to be able to see him soon?”

   “Unfortunately not.  We need to make sure he’s stable before he has any visitors, but I’m sure he’ll be very happy to see you two when he can.”

   As the doctor smiled at the Lance and Shiro, a small buzzer rang somewhere down the hallway and two nurses ran past not a second after.  The three men turned to look at the slight commotion, but a third nurse stuck her head out from around the corner, breathing heavily.

   “Cardiac arrest,” she said, gesturing behind her.  “He lost too much blood.”

   The doctor quickly turned away from Lance and Shiro and followed the nurse down the hallway.  Lance and Shiro both watched them go, still having so many questions and no answers.

   “Shiro,” Lance whispered, a guiding hand on Shiro’s back turning him the other way.  “Let’s just sit for a while longer.” Both of them needed something to ground them.

   Shiro didn’t say anything.  He just nodded and when back to his chair, dipping his head forward and hiding his face in his hands.  Lance leaned back in his chair, watching Shiro and the clock, praying they would get good news soon.  Praying they would just get news.

><><><

   It was close to 2 am when they finally got that news.  Both Lance and Shiro had fallen asleep in their seats, leaning on each other for support.  A nurse had woken them up, telling them that Keith was well enough to see people.

   “He’s still unconscious,” she said as he led Lance and Shiro down the hallway, “but he’s stable, and his condition seems to be improving.  We’re still going to closely monitor him through the night.”

   “Thank you,” Shiro said subconsciously as he grew closer to where Keith was.  He was too focused on preparing himself for what he might see.

   “We’ll call you tomorrow when you can visit with him.  I’m sure he’ll be awake by then.”

   The nurse smiled and pointed to Keith’s room before walking away to tend to another patient.  Both Shiro and Lance stepped towards the door to the room, but Shito stopped short.

   “Shiro.  C’mon,” Lance said, waving Shiro to come in.  “Don’t you want to see him?”

   “I do, but…”  Shiro looked at the floor.  “He… He’s…”

   Before Shiro could get his thoughts into words, Lance wrapped his arms around him in a tight up.  Shiro tensed momentarily, not used to such affection being given by Lance, but soon hugged back.  He felt some of the tension inside of him fall away.

   “I know, man.  I know.” Lance hugged Shiro tighter.  “But he’s alright now.  He’s gonna get better.  He will.”  The last part of Lance's words was a prayer.

   A tear fell down Shiro’s cheek and landed on Lance’s jacket.  After that, they were silent for a moment, just letting the other be supported for a little while.  Shiro was the one to initiate the break of the hug, standing up to his full height and letting out a deep breath.

   “You go in first,” Lance said, turning his face away.  “I just… I need a sec.”

   Shiro put a hand on Lance’s shoulder as he sat down in a chair outside of the room.  Lance put his hand on Shiro’s, still just staring at the floor.  When Shiro let go, Lance let his hand linger on his now bare shoulder before folding his hands and pressing his lips to them.  He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard Shiro walk away.

_ He’s gonna get better, _ Lance told himself.   _ He has to. _

   Shiro stalled in the doorway of Keith room, adjusting his jacket too many times.  He shook out his body, trying to clear his mind.  He took the first courageous step into the room but kept his head down.  What was he afraid of? It was just Keith. There was nothing to be scared of.  Shiro clenched his fists and looked up to the bed he knew Keith was laying on.  As soon as his eyes saw Keith’s head laying on the pillows, his stomach turned and knotted as the sadness and guilt from before returned, making him just about vomit.  It was just Keith, still pale and looking weathered, forearms wrapped, an IV dripping into him, an oxygen mask strapped over his mouth, a heart monitor beeping to his slow but steady pulse.  It was the same Keith Shiro had seen every single day for the past however long, but Shiro had barely an idea of who he was looking at.  Every element made sense on their own, but not all together.  Not like this.

   With shaky steps and a dry mouth, Shiro walked to the other side of the bed, not taking his eyes off of Keith.  He knelt down by the bed, watching Keith’s chest shallowly rise and fell.  Like the air around them, Keith was still.  Silent.  Timidly, Shiro reached out and touched the back of Keith’s hand with the tips of his fingers.  Keith made no reaction.  With a hard swallow, Shiro put his hand around Keith’s knuckles before gently lifting his hand.  There was no warmth, no resistance, no little giggle that Keith usually gave when Shiro would decide to hold his hand when they were alone.  Shiro cautiously moved Keith’s hand away from his side, holding it in both of his hands and rubbing Keith’s knuckles with his thumbs.  His hands shook, but Keith’s hand was calm.  Shiro thought that he could still see some dried blood under Keith’s fingernails.  Shiro kissed Keith’s fingers softly.  From out in the hallway, someone sobbed, finally letting out all of the feelings he had inside.  Someone’s heart broke.  Someone felt the guilt Shiro did.

   “Keith…”  Shiro whispered as a tear lingered on the apple of his cheek, keeping Keith’s hand close to his mouth, never wanting to let go again.  “I didn’t mean for this to happen.  I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> No matter the situation, suicide is not the answer. If you are having serious thoughts of self-harm or suicide, please don't be afraid to reach out for help. Even if it's not suicide or self-harm, but you're having negative thoughts or just feeling off, tell someone. It's better to let it out than to keep it inside. There ARE people who would care if you disappeared or hurt yourself, and there ARE people who are willing to help you.  
>   
> The US National Suicide Hotline is 1-800-273-8255  
> Or visit <https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/> for more information.
> 
> If you live in a country other than the United States, [HERE](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines) is a Wikipedia article with suicide and crisis resources listed by country. US resources are also listed. If you know of a better source for international suicide and crisis support, let me know.
> 
>    
> On a lighter note, I got to a point in this fic where I wasn't sad enough to keep going, so I made a playlist on Spotify called "Crying Music" that featured a lot of Adele, Coldplay, and Sleeping at Last to get me in the mood. It worked. Very well. Too well.
> 
> Also, if you're interested in the sort of sequel, [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429443) you are. It's real short
> 
> Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it. As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated.


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